How Jigsaw Got His Name
by Jekkal
Summary: PreSaw piece. John's first test goes badly, at least until he finds out that the Autistic he tried to kill is exactly who he needs . . . [R&R!]


"Wake up, Maria."

She shut her eyes immediately against the light, flashing like a strobe throughout the room. She noticed the shackles on her wrists and ankles, all four of them attached to a small cube in front of her, making it impossible for her to stand. She blinked, looking up at a screen.

"Maria, for over twenty years, you have been a burden to society." The pale puppet face spoke, glaring at nothing in particular. She could see the rough hew-marks on the puppet's face, and the crude line work upon its cheeks. "You have failed to learn anything of use to them . . . and so I will try my best to teach you myself.

"The box in front of you is set to explode very soon after this tape finishes. On either side of you is a series of blades you can rub against to try and free your limbs, if you can sever your hands and feet fast enough. As long as your arms are free, the explosion shouldn't kill you . . . immediately, at least. Live or die, Maria. Make your choice."

Maria blinked, then looked at the box in front of her. It was a crude set of wires . . . a very specific machine for a very specific purpose. Her eyes went wide as she noticed a digital timer, beeping loudly as it counted down.

She glanced at the blades on either side of her, then leaned forward, using her hands to grip the box better and her teeth to test each wire. After a moment, she could taste the electricity coming off of one wire, and bit it clean through.

Just like that, the noise stopped.

She blinked, then looked back down at the box. The timer disappeared. The noise was gone. The lighting was still flashing like a strobe light though... She looked up, then glared. Fluorescent lights, of course. It was a miracle she was even able to notice the puppet that seemed to talk to her with those things going.

For a moment, she sat there, trying to figure out what to do next, but soon received her answer when another light came on, diminishing the strobe effect.

"What is this . . . ?" A hooded man came into the room, looking down at Maria still shackled to the box. He pulled off his hood in disgust, confused. "That wasn't meant to happen at all. I know what people are going to do. You shouldn't have been able to think of that."

Maria glanced down at her box again, then rolled onto her back, holding her limbs high and the box up for the bald man, as if asking him to take it off.

"What are you . . . Oh . . . oh, I see . . ."

John inspected the box, eyes blinking in shock at the girl's skill. "This is very clever . . . too clever. I thought your hospital records said you had the mind of a five-year-old. Where did you learn about how electronics worked enough to do this?"

Maria blinked, then smiled up at the man. "Make the pieces fit."

"What?"

"Make the pieces fit." Maria spoke again with a lisp in her tongue, holding the box high.

John blinked, but then shook his head, helping the young woman out of the box. Apparently this 'reject' of society was too clever for him somehow . . .

A moment later, Maria stood up, walking with John. John was just shaking his head the whole way. "It wasn't supposed to work like this. My first test and I mess it up . . ."

"Puzzle was a test?" Maria blinked, shaking him by the shoulder.

"Yes, a test!" John growled, looking back at her. "I even tried to dumb it down so a retarded whelp like you could understand it, but apparently nobody ever taught you about life or death. You just sat there, and somehow bit the right cord . . ."

Maria blinked, then frowned, and this time she put both hands on John's shoulder. John blinked in shock; what was this girl trying to do with him?

"What do you want?" He spat, annoyed.

She looked at him. "I want to play a game."

John's eyes went up, even more confused than before now. "You want to _what_?" He snapped back, incredulous.

"I want to play a game!" She said again, glaring at him. John snarled, wondering why he didn't just leave the girl there, but then blinked as he finally caught eye contact with her for the first time . . . something in her eyes reminded her of him. He didn't understand how, but he just knew it. There was something about this girl . . . something important.

"A game?" John blinked, before remembering that he still had this girl to deal with as a witness if nothing else. Perhaps playing with her would keep her from turning him in, at the very least. "I'm very busy . . . but I suppose we have time for a game . . ."

Maria smiled, and John led her by the hand to his workshop. This whole 'teaching people about life' project wasn't going nearly as smoothly as it needed to be . . .


End file.
